The Littlest Terrorist Dies....We’re Safe Now!

by Judith Moriarty

A hundred thousand words have been written of the glories and the sufferings
of war and still men of wealth and perverse corrupted character order up the
killing of the multitudes.

Mantra’s of patriotism-fear-nationalism-rally the naïve youth of a land to fight for elusive slogans like; "liberation-freedom-liberty and democracy". Public relations schemes have recruiters in war-mongering busses; pull up in rust belt towns-ghettos and distant rural farmlands, promising education-excitement-character building-instant machismo. There are no pictures of those blown apart in today’s annihilating weaponry. There are no warnings or telling of depleted uranium, and numerous vaccines given, that will cause sperm to carry forth mutations of future unborn children. Wars have long echoes.

All that war is about is in this one picture. A young man holds a shattered brown child of a desert land-the Littlest Terrorist. The family of this dying child was caught up in crossfire. The mother was killed, the father gravely wounded, a four year old shot in the eye and the baby in this soldier’s arms, ripped with flying shrapnel. The father-was handcuffed (no innocence in war) unable to attend to his dying children.

The anguish of compassion is seen in this soldier’s face. Is he a father, teacher, farmer’s son? Is he a reservist called from his community to kill strangers in a distant desert land for the hucksters and profiteers of war? For behind all the flag waving-marching bands-medals and send-offs in dress uniforms; war is about conquest-oppression-slaughter-shredding-annihilation and genocide-for dominion over another land-its people and resources. War is never about the deliverance or liberation of a people! War is faceless-mindless-and without conscience. It is diabolical power and insatiable greed that has the hollow soulless ones; in their bloodlust rampaging and destroying the whole of the earth.

And so; the white man kills the red man-the yellow man-the black man-and the brown men of the world- generation after generation. As the poignant services go on in New York City, for those crushed in the ash of deceit and lies; no-one cries or knows the name of the littlest terrorist dying in the arms of her liberator. The soldiers in the background of this photo represent the indifference of the masses to the killing of the world’s young. The desert speaks to the barrenness of men’s souls ordered to kill for profit. Men are permitted to believe anything they want and to know nothing.